


Silent Sentry on the Foreshore

by jazzyproz



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24499885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzyproz/pseuds/jazzyproz
Summary: Jack is stuck working the overnight shift, his least favorite schedule. The only redeeming quality to getting off duty in the wee hours of morning is the opportunity to walk along the deserted foreshore to enjoy the night air. On one particular morning, he found it necessary to halt his stroll home and slip into the shadows to remain an unseen and silent sentry.
Relationships: Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson
Comments: 48
Kudos: 145





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N Hello and welcome!  
> These are unusual and challenging times we’re all facing and I hope everyone is doing alright and staying healthy. I have been working since the start of the pandemic as an essential worker, and I’ve been trying to decompress by writing. The JazzyMuse has been struggling to streamline a million thoughts into a single comprehensive story, but I ended up with five stories only partially written. THis past weekend, I forced myself to sit and finish one of them and this is the result. I hope it’s ok and that you find some enjoyment in reading it. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters and do not benefit from writing these stories, I just enjoy playing with Phrack and their friends.

Jack glanced at his watch, stifling a yawn. 

_ Finally _ , he sighed,  _ time to pack up _ . It was two o’clock on a Saturday morning.  _ Only two more nights of the shite shift, _ he reminded himself as he locked his desk drawers. Jack hated the 6:00pm to 2:00am shift more than any other schedule, but unlike some of his counterparts in the City North and City East stations, he wouldn’t dream of shirking his duty in taking his fair turn. To Jack, it was of the utmost importance to demonstrate to his Constables and Sergeants that he carried his weight, that he wasn’t asking his men to do anything he wouldn’t do, himself. 

There was a time when Jack didn’t mind the shift; it gave him an excuse to be out of his house when things were turning sour with Rosie. Once his divorce was final and he slowly started to put his personal life back together, he preferred the shifts that would allow his evenings to remain free. 

Since the finalization of his divorce several months earlier, he’d stepped out with a few women – to dinner, to the pictures, to the park for walks. Jack had feared that, at thirty-eight years of age, he was woefully out of practice when it came to the tricky art of socializing and courting. He steered clear, relatively quickly, of one particular woman who appeared to be desperately on the hunt for a husband. Jack certainly wasn’t eager to plow into another marriage… He already proved to himself that he wasn’t good at the institution as a whole. Despite his concerns, he’d spent a couple of nights in a bed other than his own, and as enjoyable as the evenings had been,  _ (and as reassuring as it was to learn that all was still in working order) _ , the experiences were ultimately superficial, leaving him feeling hollow. 

He tried not to focus too intensely on it, but he  _ knew  _ why he was uninspired to create deeper connections with the women who were  _ clearly _ interested in getting to know him better… His thoughts always returned to Miss Fisher and, in comparison, every other woman paled. He held no disillusions about his chances to ever be with her — it was no secret that the Honorable Miss was not the kind of woman who would be particularly interested in a dour man like himself; she simply flirted for the fun of it, and most likely, with the sole intent of making him blush…  _ Often _ .... 

If, however unlikely, the partners were to ever find themselves in a position to become intimately acquainted, he wasn’t sure it would even work... She was a thoroughly modern woman without interest in serious commitment, and he was a fairly traditional man, probably irreversibly stuck in many of his ways, regardless of his recent forays into casual relations. Still, she filled his thoughts by day and haunted his dreams by night. 

Jack tried to convince himself that it would wear-off, that the feelings he had were nothing more than infatuation. After all, she was a beautiful woman, and he was, simply put, a mere mortal. Phryne was smart and witty, fearless and passionate. He loved when she challenged him - it helped make him a better man and officer, he was certain of it. Until either the novelty of his attraction to her wore off, or he met a woman within his reach who could make him feel as alive as Miss Fisher did, he would bide his time with his detective work, sometimes with her at his side. He’d hope and look forward to sharing a whiskey and, if he’s lucky, the occasional delicious meal, with the Honorable Miss. 

The weather was pleasant, and Jack opted to walk home by the foreshore. It always made for a pleasant way to unwind when he took the scenic route at two in the morning - it was the only redeeming quality to this particular shift. Picking up a few shells on the way, he took his time, listening to the crashing tide against the shore. The moon was full and bright, it’s beams cutting through the night sky like ribbons falling to rest over the dancing waves. Inhaling deeply, he contentedly filled his lungs with the strong scent of sea air. He faced into the breeze, his ever-inquisitive mind considering the powerful effects that Mother Nature created between the celestial bodies overhead, the howling wind and the constant ebb and flow of the ocean. The combination never failed to remind him that there was much more to life than what was on the surface. 

He did a double-take when he caught the glint of a shiny red car parked at the end of the sidewalk, and his eyes skimmed his surroundings. As he drew closer, his suspicions were confirmed, it was, in fact, the Hispano-Suiza that he knew so well. His heart raced in momentary concern about why it was parked at the beach, at half past two in the morning. 

He turned in place, scanning the beach again, and when his eyes found their target, he found himself releasing a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. The very object of his distraction was sitting alone, cross-legged in the center of a blanket spread out on the sand, facing the deep blue waters. He watched as she turned her face towards the sea breeze and tilted back, letting the air flow through her hair, whipping tips of her raven bob into a wild frenzy of shadow. Not wanting to disturb her, but cautious about her well-being ( _ after all, it was the wee hours of morning and she was a woman alone on the beach, no matter how capable, and there had been a mugging not for from this spot only a few nights prior... _ ), he opted to step noiselessly into the shadow, her silent sentry. 

Time passed slowly, but peacefully. After a good thirty minutes or so, he watched silently as she pushed to her feet, gathered her shoes, hat and blanket, and meandered up the beach towards her car. He didn’t want to startle her, lest she pull her pistol and shoot first, opting for questions later, nor did he want her to think he’d been spying, because that wasn’t his intent. So, he stayed put in the darkness, his eyes following her movements. 

She didn’t seem to notice her guard in the shadow, but when she crossed the path that placed her closest to his post, she paused and he wondered if she could sense his presence. If she did, she didn’t acknowledge the sensation and continued towards her car, stopping once more just long enough to slip into her shoes. When she reached the drivers door, she hesitated again, turning her head almost far enough in his direction that he thought his presence had perhaps been detected. She didn’t swivel quite far enough, though, and with a visible sigh, she simply turned and climbed into the car, quickly pulling from the parking space and heading towards Wardlow. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Welcome back! I hope you’re here because you liked the first chapter!! I’d love to hear from you!

Jack was pleasantly surprised to hear the familiar cadence of her high heels clipping against the station’s hardwood floors the following evening. It was nearly seven o’clock and the cheerful sing-song greeting of, “Good evening, Constable!!” was accompanied by a quieter, more intimate “Hello, Hugh.” 

Jack could almost picture the scene of his officer blushing at Dottie’s attention, torn between greeting her with equal smitten-ness and stopping the Honorable Miss Fisher from storming into his office unannounced. Of course, attention to Dottie won and just as Jack looked up from his paperwork, he was greeted by a radiant smile and an outstretched picnic basket. 

“Miss Fisher,” he acknowledged her warmly, schooling his features in an attempt to mask his happiness at seeing her. 

“Hello, Jack,” she grinned as she opened the hamper. “I have it on good authority that there are  _ copious  _ amounts of delicious fanfare hidden within this little basket…” She tilted her head and arched her eyebrow playfully. 

Bypassing the guest chair without a second glance, she circled his desk and prepared to perch on her favorite corner. With feigned innocence, her eyes skimmed across the array of reports littering the surface. “I do hope I’m not interrupting…” 

“I’d never dare accuse you of interrupting, Miss Fisher.” Jack successfully hid his amusement, shuffling papers and files to make space for their impromptu desk-top picnic. Sitting back in his chair, he settled his elbows on his arm rests and folded his hands over his abdomen. “So,” he let his eyes sweep down her body as she shifted into a comfortable position on his desk. “Big plans for the evening? A late night of dancing at the Green Mill, or an ill-advised escapade with your Adventuress’ Club, perhaps?” 

Phryne laughed, a genuine giggle that warmed Jack’s heart. After he’d watched her drive away from the beach in the dark before sunrise, she’d been on his mind. He wasn’t accustomed to seeing the Honorable Phryne Fisher as solemn and motionless as she had been while sitting at the foreshore; it was unnerving, but he’d never let on. Her behavior had triggered his investigative instincts and it would take all his skills to be subtle about his questions. 

“Now, why would you think that, Jack?” She busied herself with unpacking the basket and eyed him sideways. “And what do you mean by ‘an ill-advised escapade?’ When have you  _ ever  _ known me to do  _ anything  _ ill-advised?” 

He allowed himself a brief chuckle and sat forward. “How much time do you have?” He knew she accepted his teasing for what it was, friendly banter. He was quickly distracted when she pulled, from the depths of her magic basket, a crock he instantly recognized as one of Mr. Butler’s gratin crocks. “Mmm,” his body reacted to the aroma before his brain could tell his vocal chords to be quiet. With a sly glance, he looked up and their eyes met.

She smirked, handing him a fork and the bowl. “Let it never be said that I stood between you and your supper, Jack.”

His lips quirked, the corners of his mouth tugging downward at her playfulness. He was glad to see the familiar spark in her eyes and deep down, he hoped, that he was responsible at least in some small part, for her apparent ease.

~MFMM~ 

By one o’clock in the morning, Jack pushed up from his seat and stretched his back. He’d been crashing through his reports, reviewing, correcting, reviewing again, approving and finally signing… It was a tedious task made worse because most of that evening’s reports had been written by his newest junior Constables as they were still finding their footing. 

_ At least I’ve only one more night on this shift, _ he reminded himself as he retook his seat.  _ Then, thankfully, two full days off, provided no dead bodies turn up that require my attention… _ He opened his last file folder and started reading. 

Reaching blindly into the tin at his side, he frowned to only feel crumbs and he grabbed the container, hastily pulling it closer. He peered inside to confirm that he really  _ had  _ finished all of the sweets that Miss Fisher left for him after their shared dinner. His lips turned into a slight pout of defeat and he glanced at his watch.  _ Well, less than an hour to go _ , he mused,  _ I don’t suppose I’ll starve in that time... They were quite tasty while they lasted… _ He picked up his teacup, drained the rest of the now-cooled beverage, and refocused on his report, determined to finish it before he left at two. 

~MFMM~ 

Finally stepping out into the dark of morning, Jack decided to walk home again. He could have taken the direct route, which would have put him on his front steps within thirty minutes, but, for the second night, he opted to take the scenic route past the foreshore. He wasn’t exactly expecting to see Miss Fisher on the beach again, the likelihood of that happening was slim to none, but he enjoyed the exercise after sitting at his desk on yet another slow night. 

He should be grateful there hadn’t been much activity at City South during his shift, because that simply meant the criminal element of Melbourne were on better behavior the past few nights. He couldn’t deny, however, that having  _ some _ activity certainly made the hours pass a bit faster. 

As he walked along, listening to the waves in the distance, he let his thoughts drift again to his unofficial partner. She seemed happy to see him earlier when she unexpectedly showed up at the station bearing dinner and easy conversation. She’d been all dolled up, as if planning a night out on the town, though she never really answered his question about her plans for the evening. Whatever had been bothering her the night before must have worked itself out. He hoped that all was well, but he’d never be so bold as to ask about what he saw. 

Scooping up a couple of shells from the sand bordering the sidewalk, he rolled them in his hand, enjoying their hollow sound as they clacked together in motion. His steps faltered when, in the distance, he saw a glint of red reflecting the moonlight and his heart started racing when he was close enough to confirm that her car was parked in the same spot as it had been the night before. 

Slowing in the shadows, he paused at the sea wall and leaned against it, his eyes falling on her form, sitting again on a sprawled blanket set in the middle of the otherwise empty beach, staring out to the inky ocean as she leaned back against her extended arms.

He contemplated his options. He could keep walking, go home and crawl into bed, leaving the always-independent Miss Fisher to her own devices, or he could make his way out to where she sat, greeting her casually under the guise of unexpectedly finding her there. Somewhere deep down in his core, he knew he’d walked this route in the hopes of seeing her, but was reluctant to intrude on her peace. His ever-curious mind wondered why she was there, to what end did she find herself sitting alone these past two nights…

He understood the calming effects the sound of the ocean could have on an overactive mind. It took him a long time to figure it out, but once he did, for years after the war, and occasionally even after Rosie left, whenever he woke from nightmares, his feet often brought him to the shore without conscious effort. He knew, too, that Phryne Fisher, for all her flippant comments and flirtatious smirks, battled dark demons of her own. She’d seen the bloody results of the battles fought by soldiers; she understood the fear of never knowing when a person might strike harm without forewarning; she appreciated the preciousness of life and respected how quickly it could be ripped away. Was it a combination of thoughts like these that drove her to the peace and solace of an abandoned shoreline? 

In the end, he wouldn’t interrupt her solitude. But, neither would he head straight home to bed. Sitting up on the corner of the concrete sea wall, he would serve as her sentry once again, tucked into the shadows while ensuring no harm would come to her on his watch. He could see her shoulders rise and fall in sync with her deep breaths and he admired the elegant line of her posture. Nearly an hour later, just as he was thinking about breaking his vow of silence and approaching her to inquire about her well-being, she stood and slowly made her way back to her car. 

This time, she didn’t pause when she reached her car. Climbing in, she sat for a brief moment, staring off into the distance, and then started her engine, turning towards St. Kilda, and towards home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> peace & love, my friends.   
> ~jazzy


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Welcome back! We’re about halfway through this little tale. Hopefully you’re enjoying it!

The following day was outrageously busy for City South Station. A number of petty theft reports and domestic violence calls had necessitated Jack’s early reporting, bringing him in just after 12:00 noon, and kept him and his lads jumping all day. By the time he returned to the station it was nearly ten at night. Barking out orders to his men as he stalked towards his office, he was eager to just sit for a few minutes to regain his composure. 

_ These new recruits are going to be the death of me… _

Opening his door, he stopped mid-stride, finding a basket centered on his desk. He felt his lips tug upward on their own volition as he circled around to his seat, where he found a folded note. 

_ ‘Jack.’  _

His head tilted quickly and his smile grew. Flicking his eyes towards his door, he ensured he wasn’t witnessed as he took his seat. If the basket hadn’t betrayed her identity, the elegant handwriting on the folded page and the use of his name as a greeting would have given him the answer in one. 

_ ‘Jack,  _

_ I’m sorry to have missed you this evening, but Constable Jones said you’d likely be gone for a while. I was unable to get any details out of him as to your whereabouts (that’s not to say I didn’t try! You’ve trained your man well!) Nor was I able to establish any information about the crime that’s called you away. Please do let me know if I can be of any service for your case, you know what a great team we make.  _

_ Mr. Butler crafted some simply scrumptious fare and I wanted to bring some, so you are not forced to sup from that dreadful pie cart again. Really, Jack, I don’t know what you and Hugh see in their pie quality… Please enjoy the contents here, and don’t worry, Dot left a basket for Hugh on his station out front, so this is all yours.  _

_ As this is your final night of this shift, perhaps you would be so kind as to return my basket tomorrow, say around six o’clock for dinner at Wardlow? If you have other plans, not to worry, just let me know so I can warn Mr. B.  _

_ I hope your evening is better than your afternoon has been.  _

_ PF’ _

Jack grinned stupidly. The normally stoic and dour DI immediately started poking around beneath the towel that served as the lid of the basket. He’d been so busy with wrangling his newest Constables throughout the course of the day, he hadn’t stopped to eat a real meal and his stomach suddenly rumbled in an angry reminder of his lack of attention. Settling into his seat comfortably, Jack savored the flavors of Mr. Butler’s masterpieces.  _ The man really is a marvel in the kitchen…  _

As he ate, he allowed himself the luxury of dwelling on thoughts about his unconventional and,  _ according to the Victoria Police Constabulary, unofficial _ partner. He knew it was futile to try to deny his own feelings for her, even if only to himself. Her actions of late, however, left him curious about  _ her  _ feelings for  _ him _ . He knew she wasn’t, in any way, shape, or form, a traditional woman. Her recent,  _ unexpected  _ appearances at his office without the guise of a case to discuss, bearing meals and comfortable conversation, companionship the likes of which he hadn’t experienced in years ( _ be real, mate, her companionship is like none before _ ), all teased of something deeper. He shook his head, mentally reminding himself not to get his hopes up, to not expect anything of the thoroughly modern woman, and to cool his heels; time would tell if anything would develop between the two. 

~MFMM~

Jack was simultaneously surprised and not to see a familiar red glint beneath the moonlight, like a beacon in the dark. Noiselessly, he resumed his post, leaning into the corner of the sea wall, well hidden in the shadows, and placed the now-empty picnic basket at his feet. Picking up a sun-bleached shell, he settled into position and twirled it between his fingers, remaining otherwise motionless as his eyes swept the beach. The Inspector was content to enjoy the breeze, listen to the crashing waves and simply be present. He had no intention of interrupting Miss Fisher’s solitude, he just wanted to make sure, once again, that no harm came to her as she sat alone in quiet contemplation. 

His inquisitive mind couldn’t help but wonder what brought her to the beach these past several nights, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about how often she found herself on the shore. He didn’t have long to speculate, however, as he noticed a sudden shift on her normally-perfect posture as her shoulders sagged and her head bowed forward. Intuition alone told him something was amiss and when he saw her body shake in the first throes of a sob, his feet were moving without forethought, carrying him in her direction. The rational part in the DI’s brain warned him against approaching her from behind, not wanting her to feel threatened at an unexpected approach and train her golden pistol at him. Instead, he took a roundabout route, one that, while annoyingly longer, would bring him to her from the side, giving plenty of warning to his pending arrival. His jaw clenched and his hand tightened around the basket handle as he watched her reach up and swipe angrily at the tears he couldn’t yet see. 

When he drew close enough, he knew she’d spotted him, but she’d whipped her head to the side, stubbornly refusing to allow him to witness her pain. Deciding to take a less intrusive approach, Jack stopped at the edge of her blanket and remained standing, facing the inky shoreline. When she didn’t immediately dismiss his presence, he dared to speak quietly. 

“Mind if I sit?” He purposely didn’t look down at her, giving her time to finish drying her eyes. 

Phryne tilted her head and eyed Jack sideways. “Of course not,” she answered simply, a million questions rolling through her mind, but nevertheless glad to see him. 

Jack removed his long overcoat and folded it atop the hamper after placing it onto the sand and he sat on the blanket beside her, not touching, but close enough to feel her body heat at his side. 

The partners sat in silence for many moments, both lost in their own thoughts but content to be together. Without warning, Phryne threaded her hand through Jack’s elbow and let her head fall to his shoulder in a whisper, and they continued their wordless study of the falling tide. 

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Welcome back! What did you guys think, was it OK that I just had Jack approach without much forewarning?

“When I was a lad,” Jack finally spoke softly, just loud enough for his words to carry above the sounds of the crashing waves and blowing wind. “I used to dream of the many adventures I’d have out on the High Seas… I dreamt of sailing around the world, finding exotic new lands, meeting the indigenous peoples of previously undiscovered and unspoiled places, tasting food and drink the likes of which I couldn’t pronounce…” He smiled at his own recollection of his childhood fantasies. “I would learn to use a sword to fight the dragons of the deep and be tempted by mysterious songs of the sirens that lore spoke of…” 

His hidden smile grew at the notion of a siren song beckoning him, not unlike the unheard calls that had brought him to the St. Kilda foreshore these past mornings… 

“The sea was going to take me to wonderful places, she was going to teach me valuable and unimaginable lessons…” He dropped his eyes, looking at the way her fingers gripped his arm and while she hadn’t yet acknowledged his words, he knew he had Phryne Fisher's attention. He took a deep breath and continued his thoughts. 

“Instead,” he raised his stormy blue eyes back to the water, “she carried me away from my home, my job, my family, and deposited me into the trenches of hell, only to carry me home again years later, a broken man… A man whose romantic fantasies of exploration died alongside comrades in the lonely dead of winter, in a cold and unforgiving foreign land…”

She shuffled infinitely closer, gripping his arm tighter and bringing her other hand up to thread her fingers together. Pressing herself shamelessly against his side, she kept her head on his shoulder and inhaled slowly, filling her lungs with the sea air and the familiar scent of Jack. 

“After my return, I  _ hated  _ coming here… I despised the beach, the sea, because coming here only served as a reminder of everything that had been stolen from me… from my life… So I avoided coming here for so very long...” He rolled his lips between his teeth, keeping his gaze firmly on the darkened water. Jack wasn’t sure exactly  _ why  _ he’d started revealing these things, but it felt right; something inside told him that sharing some of his secrets might aid the Honorable Miss Fisher in coping with whatever crisis had brought her to this shore during these dark hours. “I never walked home by this route; I could only be found here if a crime dictated it. When my family arranged picnics and gatherings here on warm days, I scheduled myself to work additional hours… Until one night, after solving a particularly gruesome case, after the night terrors had driven me awake with a scream in my throat and scared Rosie half to death, I pulled on my shoes and just started walking…” He felt her pull her head away and knew she was watching him, but he didn’t turn towards her. 

“So at half-three, amidst a violent storm, I found myself here, quite surprisingly — walking and listening to the rhythmic beats of the ebb and flow, to the wind through the trees across the street, and to the thunder in the clouds… To sounds so reminiscent that I was transported back to my childhood… It was like hearing a song I’d forgotten about, but once I heard it again, I suddenly recalled all the words.” He finally pulled his gaze from the distance and looked down to meet the familiar blue/green eyes that had been haunting his dreams for countless months. “That was the night I started to better understand the man I was, to rediscover the passions I’d lost, to accept my failures as well as my successes. It was the night I forgave the rising swells for the part they played in my,” he tilted his head and rolled his eyes in search for the right word and settled his gaze back on the ocean, “reluctant  _ evolution. _ ” 

Phryne studied his profile, noting once again, what a handsome man he was. She had suspected for quite some time that he had feelings for her that went beyond colleagues. That belief had been simmering just below the surface and acting as kindling for her own feelings for him. 

She had, for years, promised herself that she would never allow herself to be tied to one person, she’d never again permit a man to lay claim on her or her identity. Rene Dubois had scarred her in ways much deeper than the physical evidence would ever tell. Somehow, though, the quiet, steady presence of Jack Robinson, a common man performing uncommon duties, had pulled her into his orb. Many thought him to be dour, dull and humorless, but she knew better. 

The Honorable Phryne Fisher understood Jack’s dedication to justice and his passion for the truth. She had seen, on more than one occasion, the humor dancing behind his eyes and in his hidden smiles, and she loved his dry wit. She had seen him bend the laws when moral justice should have reigned supreme, and yes, she had been on the receiving end of his anger when she did more than simply toe the line in her after-hours-investigations. His sharp tongue was never undeserved, though, and as much as she hated and refused to be told what to do, she knew he did it with the best of intentions. 

She had never before welcomed a man into her home, into her life, the way she had done to Jack. It’s true that her initial pursuits were for a more basic desire, the wish of wanting him in her bed, but the fact that he’d resisted her blatant overtures time and time again only spoke to his self restraint, for there were many nights when she saw, shining back at her in his eyes, the burning want that she felt whenever they were together. She didn’t know that she would ever be enough for him, because she couldn’t promise herself, but at times like this, when he just seemed to materialize from her thoughts alone, she could almost imagine herself in an actual relationship, with the man who always seemed to know how to make her feel better. And she doubted he had any idea the power that he had over her… 

Resting her head back against his shoulder, she pressed her body against him as she, too, scanned the water’s edge. After several quiet moments, she took a slow breath and broke her silence. 

“This weekend marks the anniversary of when we sailed away from Melbourne - my parents and I…. without Janey, without answers, and it was when I finally understood that we were done searching for her… She and I would never have our Pirate Girls adventures again. I would never hear her laugh, and I would never sing her a song to calm her during a thunderstorm. I would grow up without her…” 

Her breath shuddered as his hand came up and covered her fingers where they peeked out from the crook of his elbow. She sighed when he placed a silent kiss on her hair, and she would forever be grateful for his steadfast strength. 

“For years I resented the sea, like you, I guess... I resented the ease with which she carried me away from the only life I'd ever known. From the only home I could imagine…” She dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief she had fisted in her fingers. “Sometimes I remember what her voice sounded like, but mostly I don’t… and I feel like that makes me a terrible person...” 

He rested his cheek against the top of her head. “You’re not a terrible person, Phryne. You were a child, and memories from childhood alter and fade as we age… it’s natural… As long as you keep her in your heart, you are keeping her memory alive.” 

“It’s difficult sometimes, to keep that in perspective… I felt like we were abandoning her back then, and I feel like all the adventures I’ve been on should have been side-by-side with her, so I’ve, in essence, stolen them from her…. When I came back to Melbourne, I knew, of course, what her fate had been, but somewhere deep down, the little girl in me hoped that somehow, she would have been found. Even if she’d been kidnapped and raised by strangers, I had dreams that felt so real that when I woke in the morning I was certain we were going to find her under an assumed name and as soon as we’d laid eyes on each other, we’d remember…” She sniffed. “It was all senseless daydreams, quite foolish for an adult to imagine such an outcome… but those dreams, sometimes they were just so real…” 

Jack said nothing, but tightened his fingers around hers where they rested on his arm. Finding her equilibrium, she continued. 

“I’ve been coming here for the past couple of nights… just thinking…remembering that day we sailed away and I could see Australia’s shoreline growing smaller and further away as we sailed… I’ve been asking questions that I’ve never voiced....” She isn’t surprised when he nods again, as if he knew. 

After several heart beats, he finally spoke. “Did the universe give you the answers you were seeking?”

She grinned ruefully and shook her head. “Not really…” She shrugged, swallowing her next thought. She wondered to herself if the universe had, in its infinite wisdom, sent Jack to her side, instead, but she’d never burden him with her flights of fancy. 

They sat together for several moments, each lost in thoughts, until Jack shifted. At first, she thought he was pulling away from her and she immediately felt the loss of his absence. Instead, he was merely grabbing his overcoat. 

“You’re shivering,” he explained simply, unfurling the folded article and draping it across her lap, not wanting to make a fuss, but in no hurry to end their time.

Her smile was appreciative. “Thank you, Jack,” she answered softly, releasing her grip on his bicep in order to swing his jacket around her shoulders and thread her arms through the sleeves. Phryne was no stranger to attention from men, but there was something special, something intimate, to be on the receiving end of Jack’s care. She chuckled at the way her fingertips barely poked out from the hem of the sleeve and she playfully waved her hand at Jack. 

He laughed at her antics and rolled the sleeves up a couple of turns until her hands were free. As he watched her fasten the top two buttons he tilted his head. “Better?” 

“Much,” she quickly shimmied closer and slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow once again. As Phryne breathed, her lungs were filled with the scent that had come to mean comfort and safety, and she was certain that she would forever find herself at  _ home _ when she was in Jack’s presence. She didn’t hesitate to let her head fall against his shoulder again, and together they watched the lights on a ship far in the distance. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> peace & love, my friends.   
> ~jazzy


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Welcome to the final installment of this story! If the JazzyMuse cooperates, I have a few ideas for continuing this story line, but as many know, the muse can be a fickle thing...

Jack felt his confidence soar at her initiation of contact and he placed his hand atop hers, holding it gently against his arm. After several moments, he broke the new silence, leaning into her ever so slightly, but keeping his eyes forward. 

“Thank you for supper,” his lips quirked up into a crooked smile. “One might suspect you think me incapable of feeding myself…”

She laughed brightly at his quip. “You’re very welcome!” She jostled his arm playfully. “We can’t very well have the best two officers in the VPC going hungry, now, can we?” She raised her head and looked at him, a twinkle in her eye. “What time did you finally get a break?” 

“A little after ten.” He let the domesticity of their conversation wash over him only briefly. 

“Oh, good Lord! You must have been positively ravenous by then, Jack! Dot and I stopped by just before six!” 

“Yes… it was a... long evening...” he shrugged. “But everything was delicious and a very welcome surprise. I was feeling quite put out when the hour grew so late… Hugh reminded me that the pie cart had been closing at nine these past few nights, so I figured we’d be dining on biscuits and weak tea for supper.”

“Good grief, Jack! I swear, I will never understand your fascination with that pie cart! The pies are fair-to-middling,  _ at best. _ If I didn’t know you better, I would suspect your disappointment in missing a late night meal there had more to do with the woman providing the pies than with the pies themselves!”

“What?” Jack’s voice cracked in shock. His brow wrinkled but his eyes danced with laughter.

Phryne scoffed and sat upright once again, her hand slipping from his arm. She extended it behind herself to lean back against and eyed him sideways — he actually had the nerve to look shocked and she rolled her eyes. 

“Oh, come, now, Jack!” She let her head fall backwards so the breeze could blow through her loose bob. “I’ve seen the way she smiles at you. She gives you  _ two _ pies for the price of one, for pity’s sake!”

He raised his eyebrows incredulously. “ _ Perhaps _ , Miss Fisher, Connie is simply appreciative of the superb job the Victoria Constabulary do in keeping Melbourne a little less dangerous. Maybe she is just saying ‘Thank You’ in the way she knows how!” 

“ _ What rot _ ,” she raised an eyebrow at his flimsy excuse.  _ He refers to this woman by her given name, not Miss-so-and-so?? _ “Well, don’t think that I didn’t notice that  _ Connie  _ doesn’t give any of your men that same treatment!  _ And, _ she has a special smile for you, Jack Robinson,” she narrowed her eyes and pinned him with a knowing gaze. “I have  _ exceptionally  _ keen observational skills, and I’ve stood by your side when she’s gushed over you, pulling out the pies with the perfect golden crust  _ just for you _ …” 

She licked her lips and slipped into her childhood Collingwood dialect in an over-dramatic imitation of the attractive young woman,  _ Connie,  _ who very clearly had eyes for the Senior DI. 

“Evenin,’ Inspecta’! Whad’ya say to an extra helpin’ tonight? I even got a couple-a perfectly toasted pies waitin’ right here fer’ya!” She batted her eyelids flirtatiously. “Oh, Detective Robinson, I wouldn’t dream-a lettin’ you pay fer two! Just pay fer th’one will be plenty!” 

Jack’s laugh was bold — a proper belly laugh — and he fell back against the blanket, folding his arms under his head in an attempt to cushion it against the bumpy beach.

“My, my, Miss Fisher, I must say, you really  _ do _ pay attention, don’t you!” The last thing he’d expected was to see a glimpse of jealousy from the one-and-only Phryne Fisher.

“Well,” she raised her chin defiantly and looked out toward the sea, unwilling to let him see the envy that always pinged in her chest when such attention was showered on her detective. Yes, Phryne Fisher knew that she had zero claim on the man at her side, and while she despised jealousy in her men, she wasn’t able to completely ignore it when the tables were turned… She was, after all, only a woman... “It’s a little hard to miss,  _ Jack _ . Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed!” She turned her head and looked down at where he laid at her side, the shadows and moonlight doing wonderful things to his expression. 

Jack jerked his head sideways noncommittally and bit back a grin. “Well, I don’t remember hearing you complain about the quantity, or quality, of pies on the  _ many _ occasions you’ve stolen your fair share from my plate!”

“Of  _ course  _ I don’t complain, Jack! It would be  _ terribly  _ ungrateful of me to turn down the offer once you’ve extended it! Besides, sometimes those pies are  _ dreadfully  _ heavy with gravy, and you  _ know  _ how your stomach gets with too much gravy! As Bert would say, ‘ _ your guts would be groaning all night _ ’ if I permitted you to finish those pies all by yourself. So you see,” she plastered on a fake look of concern, “I'm doing it for  _ your own good _ .”

It was true, Jack’s body seemed to have a certain, inconvenient aversion to too much rich gravy,  _ much to his constant disappointment _ , but he catalogued her knowledge of this fact, pleased that, while her excuse was entirely unbelievable, she did, in fact, know him quite well. 

“My own good, huh?” 

“Absolutely,” she turned away quickly, knowing he would be able to see through her fib. After a moment, she heard a deep rumbling laugh rolling from Jack’s throat and her eyes darted back down to him. “What’s so funny? 

“You are, Miss Fisher,” he rolled his head so he could count the stars overhead. 

“ _ I am _ ? What is that supposed to mean?” 

Jack’s smile grew despite his attempts to keep it hidden. “I wish you could see the servings I get most days when I grab a bite from her…” His eyes shifted to her face though he didn’t otherwise move, wondering how much he would have to spoon-feed her before she figured it out. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, Miss Fisher, that your powers of observation, keen as they may be, are woefully skewed in this case... I only get a second pie when a certain Lady Detective is standing in line with me…” 

Her brow wrinkled. “What? She is  _ trying _ to make me jealous? What is  _ wrong _ with that woman?!” 

“Jealous?”  _ Oh Jack was enjoying this _ , perhaps just a little too much... “Is that what this is?” He waved a finger in her direction. “Jealousy?” 

Caught in her own game, Phryne squared her shoulders and lifted her dainty little nose into the air. “Why would I be jealous, Jack? That makes no sense…” 

“Mm-hmm,” he rolled his eyes and crossed his ankles as he stretched his body and feigned indifference. “If you say so,” he quirked an eyebrow. Before she could launch another counter-attack, though, he continued. 

“ _ If _ , however, you would pay closer attention, you would hear what I’m telling you… I only receive an extra pie when  _ you _ are there with me…” He could see the wheels turning and decided to make it so clear that even Collins would see it. “In fact, I’ve been tempted to invite  _ Dr. MacMillan  _ to join me for lunch one day soon… I  _ suspect _ she and Connie would get on fabulously…”

Finally catching his drift, Phryne gasped and spun around, pinning him with a hard glare. “You don’t mean…” Her eyebrows finished her question. 

“ _ Got it in one _ , Miss Fisher, you get the blue ribbon!” He declared cheerfully, though she definitely hadn’t gotten it in a single guess. He narrowed his eyes and rolled in her direction just barely. “As I said, I  _ suspect _ , because I, too, have  _ exceptionally _ keen powers of observation…”

“Jack Robinson,” she laid down at his side, facing him, holding herself up on her elbow so she could look down into his eyes. “You’ve been keeping this from me!” 

“Well,” his voice was husky as she drew near and his playful eyes softened. “I hated to jeopardize the possibility of being on the receiving end of a  _ much _ better supper from time to time as my Lady Detective might see fit to swing by the station…” Yes, he knew what he said, he wondered if she’d pick up on the claim and punish him for it. “If she knew the pie cart simply was a convenient spot to score a meal, with no ulterior motives by the business-woman in charge, I may have been left to my own devices more often…” 

Phryne’s cheeks flushed and a riot of butterflies erupted in her abdomen. Her gaze fell to his mouth, then back to his stormy blues. “ _ Your Lady Detective _ is always willing to share supper with you, Jack…” 

He moved one arm from behind his head and brought it up to her cheek, rubbing the backs of his knuckles against her soft skin. “Your Detective Inspector is most appreciative, not only for the food, but especially for the company…”

_ Jack Robinson was a magnificent flirt! Where did this man hide all day, every day? _

“You’ll turn my head, Jack Robinson.” Her words were breathy as she leaned into his touch. 

“Good,” he answered softly, giving her a crooked smile and trailing a singer finger down the side of her neck. 

If she wasn’t careful, Phryne Fisher was going to have her way with him right there on the beach. Her eyes searched his face, his sharp features softened in the moonlight and she shivered, not because she was cold, but because his simple, gentle touch warmed her deeper than she had expected. She tilted her head and looked down at him, so close, and she felt like she could drown in his eyes. 

One by one, his forefinger was joined by his other fingers and he slipped his palm to the back of her neck, his thumb sweeping up to her earlobe. 

“Jack,” she breathed as she succumbed to the gentle pressure, closing the distance between them. 

Jack arched his neck and met her in the middle, brushing his mouth against hers tenderly. When she hummed at the contact, he parted his lips and swallowed the sound, committing it to memory forever. With a little more insistence, she fell down against him and he brought his other hand around to cradle her jaw as he let gravity do the rest, pulling them both down together.

When Phryne felt the gentle nudge from the tip of his inquisitive tongue, she opened to greet him and to finally taste him as she’d been longing to do for so long. Jack kissed with the same intensity that he applied to everything else in his life, and Phryne was thankful she wasn’t standing, because had she been upright, she was certain she’d have uncharacteristically melted into a puddle of emotions instantly. The Lady Detective was not accustomed to losing herself so quickly upon first kissing a man, but she was certainly not opposed to the sensation. 

When the need for oxygen proved greater than the desire to continue their kissing explorations, they both started to pull apart, albeit barely. She dipped her head and rubbed her nose against Jack’s, relishing in the warm sensation filling her chest. 

Jack looked up into her eyes, practically seeing the wheels turning in her mind. He brushed her cheek with his thumb, tilting his head as he studied her expression. Licking his lips, he could still taste her and he knew he’d instantly become addicted. 

“Should I…  _ apologize _ ?” 

She smirked adoringly and palmed his cheek. “No, Jack.” She lowered her head down to his shoulder and snuggled alongside him, draping her arm over his chest. “ _ Definitely _ not.” She rubbed her nose along his jaw and hummed when his arm wrapped around her back and squeezed. “We should do it again,” she smiled against his skin.  _ “Soon… _ ”

“Mm-hm,” Jack chuckled. “I think I can live with that…” 

“But first…” she tightened her hold on his suit jacket lapel and nuzzled her nose against the air of his throat. “Can we stay like this, just for a little while longer?”

Jack tightened the arm that held her and his free hand grabbed hers, bringing it to his lips so he could kiss her knuckles. “As long as you like, Miss Fisher…”

They remained stretched out on the blanket, staring up into the darkness, counting stars. As minutes turned to hours, and Phryne’s head grew heavy on Jack’s shoulder, he smiled. The foreshore would take on a new meaning for him now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Postscript A/N   
> Thanks again for drudging through this little adventure. I hope it offered some respite from the humdrum daily routine that we’re plowing through. I’d love to hear from you, please let me know your thoughts! 
> 
> peace & love, my friends,   
> ~jazzy

**Author's Note:**

> peace & love, my friends  
> ~jazzy


End file.
